


Storm of Spirits: Phoenix Rising

by moriturus



Series: Storm of Spirits Universe [2]
Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:00:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25018159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moriturus/pseuds/moriturus
Summary: The ghost of Tepes hissed, his expression changing from eager excitement to outright hatred, as he drew back, eyes filled with blue flames. "_NO! You will not steal away my only chance to live again, ötödik szellem! She can restore me! She can make me live again!_" The ghost reached out to grab Elsa, an ethereal clawed hand reaching for her throat.
Relationships: Anna/Elsa (Disney)
Series: Storm of Spirits Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930960
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9
Collections: Storm of Spirits Universe





	Storm of Spirits: Phoenix Rising

_Warnings: implied incest._

This story takes place in the Storm of Spirits universe. If you haven’t read it, it will probably not make a ton of sense, so start there.

FFN: www.fanfiction.net/s/13562654/1/Storm-of-Spirits

AO3: archiveofourown.org/works/23586097/chapters/56592682

* * *

# Storm of Spirits: Phoenix Rising

_1880, Schwangau, Bavaria, The Northern German Confederation_

“Herr Meyer, what do you make of this?” asked Burgermeister Richter, the local authority in Schwangau. The two men stood on a low hill near the ruins of Neuschwanstein Castle, ruined almost forty years prior in a cataclysmic battle that neither had witnessed. Construction was underway on a new castle but was so slow going it was impossible to tell where the old castle’s ruins ended and the new castle’s scaffolding began.

The local farmlands surrounding the castle had been lush and fertile until that army of death marched through, laying waste to everything. Still, even the worst battles left the soil and land in better condition afterward; blood and bone were excellent fertilizers, if costly and unnerving.

The fields had recovered for a few years after the battle, but slowly, the land turned a dull grey, and crops failed to thrive. Until the unification with the Northern German Confederation, Bavaria had to import more and more food to feed the population near Schwangau as their fields produced less and less.

The cause was easy to see. A dense forest once known as the Moors provided the farmlands with irrigation and wildlife to keep the area balanced. Local superstition said the forest was populated with fairies and guardian spirits of every kind, but after the massacre, the forest went silent. The clear, sparkling brooks turned brackish and dull; what little wildlife emerged from the woods was sick or crippled.

Meyer, a younger man dressed smartly in a beige topcoat, green Tyrolean hat, and black pants, looked out. Meyer owned one of the local farms, inherited from his father a decade prior. He’d never known the area to be bountiful; every year was a slightly greater struggle. “I’m not sure, Herr Richter. To be honest, Father loved to talk about this land, but it’s always seemed cursed to me.”

“Have you noticed it worsening at all?” asked the older man in the formal dress of the day, top hat shining in the morning sun. Sweat beaded his exposed brow from the overly heavy dress jacket he wore.

Meyer nodded. “In the past two years, our crops have failed early. Only by the grace of lands in northern Bavaria has my family avoided ruin. I’ve never seen such blight before, nor seen it spread so quickly. That black rot infests everything, and nothing grows in it.”

The two men commiserated a few moments more, before turning back to their horses and riding to Schwangau’s center. Dark eyes watched them leave from tangled brambles on the hill.

Borra, now an elder dark fey, limped from the bramble. “Mistress… we need you so badly here. Why have you not returned? Why have you forsaken our lands?” he looked to the sky tearfully. His once fair skin was sallow and grey, as though the blight of the land had spread to him. The horns on his head, once tall and strong, were as withered and twisted as the trees around him.

Borra sighed. His time on the earth was drawing to a close; wounds from the battle had not healed properly without his mistress’ magic. After two decades of searching, he’d heard that a mysterious spirit - a demigod - had defeated the cursed enemy that ravaged his land. That spirit, his fairy brethren informed him, was somewhat nearby, in Paris. But in his state, he had no way to reach the distant city. He doubted he’d even survive the journey.

Borra inscribed his plea on a piece of smooth bark with some of the blackened water in the brook nearby. He sank to his knees and looked skyward. “Spirits of the land, hear me. Find this demigod and deliver our plea. Save our land, our people from this curse.” Borra lifted the bark above his head and a strong wind swept it away. Borra offered one final prayer of thanks to the spirits and collapsed.

* * *

_Paris_

Anna slammed the door to the small apartment more forcefully than she intended, her arms full of groceries from the market. Paris was by far a substantial culinary improvement over Arendelle; she and Elsa had moved to the city of light a handful of years prior, once they’d laid Kai and Gerda to rest in the northern hills.

Establishing themselves in Paris had been simple. Elsa’s abilities to commune with the spirits yielded a handful of astonishingly high-quality uncut gems that they’d taken to Rue de la Paix and sold to the jewelers there, giving them more than enough money to live comfortably in the city for several years.

Anna put the day’s food away and sat down to do some of her homework. Since arriving in Paris, Anna had enrolled in various occupational schools to broaden her horizons, taking classes at L’Ecole des Beaux-Arts in painting. Canvases piled up in a corner of their apartment from her efforts.

The door opened and shut again as Elsa came home. Unlike Anna, Elsa was dedicated to her studies of the elements and spirits. She never wanted a repeat of what happened with the Deathlord and was determined to master her capabilities to avert any potential problem in the future. Sometimes, that led to unusual trips to far-away lands to find relics, artifacts, or whatever else the spirits told her to do.

“What… happened today, sis?” Anna asked, staring at Elsa’s mud-covered clothing.

Elsa held up what looked to be a slightly rusty iron key. “Artifact. This was… someplace in China, I think.”

Anna squinted at the rusty object. “What does it do?”

“Supposedly it’s the mechanism for the entrance to some crypt. I won’t be able to get to the crypt for a while though, because it’s nowhere near where my memories let me travel, and I can’t afford to vanish for a month while I take a camel to… wherever it is. I’ll get there eventually, just not soon,” she smiled. “It’s not like I don’t have the time. What about you?”

Elsa sauntered over to Anna’s easel where a half-painted sketch of the River Seine was taking shape… sort of.

Anna sighed. “It’s… well, it’s this,” she gestured. “It’s not coming along quite the way Madame Aurand would like.” In truth, Anna thought, it might be time for her to try a different trade. Being an artist clearly wasn’t in her blood and no amount of immortality seemed likely to fix that.

Elsa patted her sister on the shoulder gently. “Well, I’m going to get cleaned up. What’d you get for dinner?” she asked as she headed for the bathroom.

Anna padded over to the kitchen counter. “The usual - baguettes for sandwiches, of course, some vegetables, your favorite cheese, of course-” she said, pulling out a wax paper wrapped block of smoked Gouda, “-and of course…”

“… chocolate.” came the singsong response from the bathroom, Elsa not even bothering to look. Both sisters giggled.

* * *

A familiar siren’s song woke Elsa from her slumber that evening. Her arms wrapped around Anna’s naked waist, she turned her head to hear the distant voice calling her. It took a moment, but she knew it once she’d shaken off the haze of sleep.

Ahtohallan.

Elsa sighed. She hadn’t been called as the fifth spirit in over a decade. Why now? She got out of bed as quietly as she could, slipping from between the silk sheets. Frost lined the floor of the bedroom; Anna’s tolerance to the elements hadn’t changed, but she preferred to be cool while sleeping, especially in Paris’ warm summers. Though she hadn’t used her powers overtly since they dissolved the monarchy, Elsa still enjoyed making Anna as comfortable as possible.

In the blink of an eye, her usual ice dress formed around her naked body as she mentally began to arrange the symbols in her mind to open a portal to Ahtohallan. As the portal spring to life, Elsa jumped, feeling the touch of fingers on her shoulder.

“Ahem.”

“I didn’t want to wake you,” Elsa said, her cheeks blushing.

“You know I can hear Ahtohallan’s call too, right?” Anna smirked.

Elsa put her palm to her face. “I… forgot.”

Anna pulled her sister into a tight embrace, conveying her forgiveness with her warmth. “Don’t you worry about waking me up. Together always, right?”

Elsa nodded. “Well then, shall we get ready?”

“Born ready!”

“Yes, you were born exactly like that, sis. Completely naked,” Elsa giggled. She waved her hand and covered Anna in an ice replica of Anna’s coronation dress. “Now you’re ready.”

They joined hands and touched the portal, feeling the familiar fall to Ahtohallan.

* * *

“Elsa, Anna. Thank you for coming to us,” said the guardian in Iduna’s voice. Even after almost 40 years, the sisters still loved to see their memories brought to life. Ahtohallan’s power of memory kept the best parts of their past fresh in their minds when they otherwise might have forgotten important details about those they left behind when they embraced immortality. Everyone they’d known had long since passed away, and Ahtohallan was their only way to remember what had been.

“We heard your call, Mother. Is something wrong?” asked Elsa.

The crystals on the floor of the hall of memories flared to life as the spirits made their presence known. Jotun’s rumbling voice echoed throughout the darkened room. “Indeed, children. The war with the Deathlord had long-lasting consequences, only some of which we are now learning.”

White snow fell from the walls, forming a landscape of Neuschwanstein’s ruins and the forests surrounding them. Even without the colors of life, it was clear to the sisters that something was wrong; the forests appeared gnarled and ruined, twisted almost past recognition.

“What… what is this place? What happened here?” Anna gasped.

“This is where the Deathlord claimed the life and power of a demigod. She went by many names over the millennia, but the local villagers knew her as Maleficent,” chittered Nokk’s voice. “To Queen Aurora, she was known as godmother. To us, she was known as Phoenix.”

“A demigod? Like Elsa and me?”

Gale’s soft voice flitted through the air. “You are still very young to be contemplating such titles, Anna, but yes. Phoenix was as ancient as the trees themselves. After the war, she should have reincarnated, returned to life, but we have seen no evidence of that.”

“In fact,” chirped Bruni, “We have seen the opposite. Look carefully at the forest. It is warped and twisted, as though the land itself is dying without Phoenix’s magic.”

“What would you have me…” Elsa paused, glancing sideways to catch Anna’s expectant gaze, “… us do, spirits?”

Iduna’s voice spoke up. “This is important, but not urgent. Take some time to travel to this place and learn what you can from the people nearby and with your own magic. This… injury to the world needs healing, needs Phoenix’s power, but until we know more, we will not be able to make the world whole again. Like a wound, this will fester if we do not remedy the cause.”

“What happens if it is not fixed?” wondered Elsa aloud.

“Phoenix’s demise was magical in nature, and she provided an important balance in life magic. As you see in the forest, her absence is causing life magic to slowly drain from the area. Unchecked, it will eventually spread beyond the forest. In a thousand years’ time, the world will look as the forest does,” rumbled Jotun.

“Well, at least we have some time,” Anna turned to her sister. “It’d probably be faster to leave from Paris than from here or even Arendelle - I mean, Arendal - since we’ll have to travel conventionally.”

Elsa nodded in agreement. “We are happy to help, my friends.” She turned to weave a portal back to their flat in Paris.

“And we thank you for answering your calling, Elsa.” murmured Iduna’s voice as the sisters vanished.

* * *

The sisters boarded the eastbound train from Gare De L’est, sitting in the rich red, plush fabric seats that more resembled sofas than anything else. The narrow windows of the wooden car allowed them to enjoy the landscape passing by, though Anna’s summery sunflower hat occasionally obscured the view. The opposite seats in their compartment remained empty save for a couple of bags.

“Elsa…” Anna started, nibbling on a biscuit they’d been served by the staff. “Do you ever get the feeling, when we’re talking to the spirits and the guardian, that they’re not telling us everything?”

Elsa chuckled. “Every single time. It’s like… I don’t think it’s trust. They do trust us. But they don’t share as much as they could. It’s possible, given what happened with the Deathlord, that they’re reluctant to share everything in case they are betrayed again.”

“But surely they can see that you’re different?”

“The spirits can’t read minds, Anna. They perhaps can sense how we’re using our magic, but that’s it - otherwise, they would have stopped the Deathlord long before he became a problem,” Elsa said, biting carefully into a piece of chocolate Anna had procured for her at a shop in the train station. “So it makes sense, in a way, that they’re being cautious with us. They never said how long it took for the Deathlord to be corrupted. Maybe they’re testing us, to make sure that we’re not turning against them.”

“I did wonder about that,” Anna mused. “The powers that we have, that we share… there’s so much we could do with them. I suppose that’s why they urge us constantly to keep them hidden so that we’re not burned at the stake like ol’ Joan.”

* * *

“Next stop, Bissenhofen!” shouted the conductor, wandering up and down the corridor. The sisters grab their bags and make their way to the train platform. The setting sun made the beautiful Bavarian architecture stand out even more, the clay tiles of the rooftops a warm, rich color like cocoa powder, white walls and dark wooden beams standing out in the dusky light.

“Anna?” Elsa asked inquisitively, seeing her sister in what looked to be some discomfort. “The train ride wasn’t that long… are you all right?”

“I… something feels different, Elsa. The closer we get, the more I feel like- like there are flies constantly buzzing around my head, but small ones. I can’t see them, but I can hear them.” Anna looked around, slowly regaining her breath, her chest heaving in the floral sundress she’d worn. “So… where are we going to stay tonight?”

“Stay?”

“Yeah, you know, to sleep and such.”

“Did you bring pajamas?”

Anna looked confused for a moment, opened her bag, and yelped. “Ah, crap! I knew I forgot something.”

“You’ve forgotten more than something, silly. I figured we’d find a nice quiet, out of the way corner in this town, and then go sleep at home,” Elsa said, her eyes looking over the landscape.

“But… oh.” Anna blushed. “That’s right. We can travel to anywhere you’ve seen with your own eyes or your memories. So… once we get somewhere, we can just use your magic to go back and forth.” The sisters so seldomly used their abilities, Anna often forgot they had them except for the occasional reminder, like an overly warm day in Paris.

“Exactly. We’ll come back here in the morning after a good night’s sleep at home and finish our journey to Neuschwanstein,” smiled the elder sister.

“Can we at least stay for dinner? Something smells divine!” Anna grinned mischievously, looking around for the source of the rich, savory scents among the small shops.

Elsa rolled her eyes. “Sure.”

–

“Promise me we’ll come back to this town before we leave?” Anna begged as the sisters walked towards the carriage stand near the train station the next morning.

“We can - why?”

Anna’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Did you see the bakery we passed? The German chocolate cake?”

Elsa giggled. “Okay, yes, I did. And yes, we can.” While she maintained her composure, she salivated at the thought of the cake display as well, and a wry smile surfaced on her lips.

The sisters flagged a carriage in the center of the small town, a wooden carriage pulled by two stunning Black Forest horses. The short, stout driver informed them it’d be about a two-hour ride down to Schwangau.

* * *

“Elsa… I feel sick.” Anna’s skin paled and she felt nauseated. The sensation had started when they transferred trains at Augsburg, but grew stronger with every hoofbeat towards the castle. Elsa wrapped her arm around her sister’s shoulders; fortunately, the ride to Schwangau was almost over.

“What does it feel like, more specifically?”

Anna closed her eyes and contemplated for a moment. “I feel like… like those buzzing flies I was telling you about yesterday? That, but much worse now. It’s like a constant, dull pressure on my head.”

Elsa frowned. “It must be unique to your magic. I haven’t felt any difference one way or another since we arrived.” She rubbed a hand over Anna’s back, gently cooling her.

“It’s almost like… like the feeling you get when you pour out a jigsaw puzzle all over the table and you’re just looking at it. It’s confusing, you’re not sure where to begin, but you know it means something. Except, in this case, it also buzzes,” said the redhead, her fingertips pressed to her temples.

The carriage pulled into Schwangau’s quaint town center, letting the sisters off near one of the local inns. Beautiful white and green houses with clay red roofs greeted them, balconies decorated with potted plants. Ornate gas lamps dotted the narrow streets, glass sparkling in the midday sun. Elsa asked one of the inn-keepers which way to head to Neuschwanstein, learning it was south of the town center.

Anna’s discomfort increased as the pair followed small signs south of the town towards Neuschwanstein. She clutched her stomach over her green and yellow sundress.

“Is it harmful? Perhaps you could try healing yourself?” asked Elsa.

Anna nodded wordlessly, then whispered a version of the incantation she’d learned from the Countess Dolingen a hundred years prior. Her fingertips briefly glowed with golden light. She gasped, her eyes bright. “The buzzing! It’s… quieter now. Like, a lot quieter.”

They continued their walk down dirt roads until they reached the border of the town and the road became choked with overgrown, grey vegetation. “What in the world…” Anna wondered.

“This must be the forest the spirits told us about,” Elsa said, looking around at the gnarled, blackened trees. She held her hands up and channeled the power of the wind spirit gently, pushing aside the tangled brambles.

Anna closed her eyes and touched one of the blackened trees. She could feel its life energy, but it was as though it were a hundred tiny rivulets of water instead of a single, steady stream. “Something’s very wrong here, Elsa. This tree… it’s alive, but… the energy is all mixed up.” She reached out and chanted the healing spell, her fingers glowing golden light once more. The tree absorbed the healing light and in moments, its withered black texture flaked away, revealing healthy bark and leaves again.

“Did you heal it?”

Anna shook her head. “No, not really. It’s like… remember that one time at our carnival when one of the carnies brought out a little toy with a magnet and iron filings? The iron filings all lined up-”

“Yes, the children loved it. As did you,” Elsa smirked.

“-so this felt the same. I didn’t heal it - the life energy in it was there, but it was all out of order and scattered. I just… I don’t know, touched a magnet to it, and it came back on its own,” Anna mused.

A quiet gasp made both sisters turn, ready to act. Elsa instinctively cast armor over both of them. In the decades since they’d fought the Deathlord, Elsa had learned to cleverly weave ice and rock together to form nearly unbreakable armor. “Who’s there?” she asked sharply.

A broken cough sounded from behind one of the trees. Out stepped a man… with horns and wings. “Are you al-” Anna began to rush forward before Elsa stopped her.

“Forgive… forgive me. I thought you were someone else. I thought you were… her,” rasped the winged man.

“Who are you?” Elsa repeated.

“My name… is Borra. I was first of the Queen’s favored, leader of her armies. I am what you know as a dark fairy, as was my Queen who died here,” he managed to get out, before sinking to a knee.

“Who was your Queen, Borra?” asked Elsa, more gently.

“Her true name you would not know, but she was known to outsiders as Maleficent, Queen of the Moors, and godmother to Queen Aurora of Bavaria.” The dark fairy sat down, what little strength he had left draining from him.

Elsa moved to let Anna forward.

“Hi, I’m Anna. This is my sister, Elsa. I’m… I’m going to try to heal you, okay? This won’t hurt at all. Or it shouldn’t, anyway. Actually, I don’t know, but no one’s ever complained so far, and-”

Elsa nudged Anna with her shoulder and nodded towards the fairy with her head. Anna reached out, fingers aglow, and found the same scattered life energy in the dark fairy that she had in the tree. She let her energy flow into him, re-aligning his life force, and in moments his grey skin flushed back to life, his matted hair flowing and dark again, his eyes bright instead of sunken. Old injuries dissolved and vanished.

Borra inhaled deeply as he stood tall. “Thank you, my Lady Anna. Your powers are quite remarkable. It has been… long since I have felt life like this. I have not felt the same since my Queen perished in battle.”

Anna smiled. “You’re very welcome. Do you know why this land is so sick?”

“It is because my Queen has not returned. This land, and the land around it, was nurtured by her for millennia. Her spirit keeps it strong. Normally, when she was hurt or even killed, she would resurrect and reclaim her throne, but after her battle with the unclean, she never returned,” Borra sighed.

“Do you know why she didn’t?” asked Elsa.

“I have only suspicions. To resurrect, she must be intact. If some part of her was taken, she would not be able to restore herself; this is true for all of us who are dark fae. Tell me, Lady Anna, how do you know of the unclean?”

Anna briefly glanced at Elsa. “Uh… I stopped him.”

The dark fae’s eyebrows shot up. “Stopped him? You? I mean no offense, Lady Anna, but you do not appear to be garbed as a great warrior. How?”

Anna blushed as Elsa redirected the fae’s attention. “She is a life spirit,” said the elder sister. “When she fought the Deathlord, she stripped him of his powers.”

The dark fae knelt before Anna again. “To defeat the evil that fell my Queen is a testament to your powers, Lady Anna. Are you powerful enough to restore these lands, as my Queen did?”

Anna shook her head. “My powers are limited; in order to channel life, I have to take it from somewhere - or someone else.” Borra’s face fell at the admission, his hopes to restore his lands dashed.

Elsa patted him gently on the shoulder. “We have others we can ask for advice about how to restore this place.”

* * *

The sisters walked through the empty halls of Ahtohallan once more, entering the hall of memories. A few wisps of snow danced around the darkened crystals on the floor. Anna gently tugged Elsa’s hand as they set foot in the middle of the spirits’ energy crystals, the room flaring to life as always.

“Hello again, Mother,” spoke Elsa to the shimmering image of Iduna in the wall of ice. “We’ve come from the Moors with what we’ve found - but we need your guidance.”

“Elsa, Anna. Thank you for seeing to our request so promptly. It was most kind of you,” Iduna’s avatar smiled. “We have heard your interactions with the dark fae. During Maleficent’s battle with the Deathlord, he must have injured or taken some part of her essence. Previous enemies of hers had cut off her wings; do you recall seeing large, black, leathery wings in your confrontation with him?”

Elsa shook her head. “No, and while that was 34 years ago, I think we’d remember a giant pair of wings.”

Anna’s eyes widened as memory flooded through her mind. “What about… after the battle, I picked up a few things from the Deathlord’s remains. There was the knife that he… he attacked you with, a bag, some bottles, and a few other little things.”

“Can you see what those items are, Mother?” asked Elsa, turning her attention from Anna.

“All is…” the image of Iduna started, before pausing. The crystals on the floor flared brightly. Iduna’s voice took on a confused, somber tone. “Darkness surrounds this. We cannot see what has happened because his magic shielded it from us somehow. All is dark. Take the items you have found to…”

“No.” Jotun’s voice rumbled in the cavern. “The risk is too great.”

“What risk?” asked both sisters at the same time.

The spirits fell silent for a long moment, as though they were communicating in some unseen fashion before Iduna’s image spoke again. “Jotun worries about Anna’s safety, but the caretaker at Poenari Citadel has the most experience with magicks such as this. As long as you are with her, Elsa, then Anna will be safe.”

Elsa nodded. “All right. We’ll go get the items from our apartment and then visit the Citadel. It’s been some time since we saw the Countess; it will be good to see how she’s doing.” Elsa took Anna’s hand and opened a portal back to Paris.

The spirits remained curiously silent as the sisters departed.

* * *

If anything, Poenari Citadel looked worse for the wear than it had when they’d visited it 34 years prior. The walls had crumbled a bit more, and the bodies impaled on the spears had long since rotted; only a skull and ribcage remained mounted on each. At least there was no smell this time, thought Anna, shouldering the satchel over her traveling coat. They traced their footsteps of the past up the rocky, broken stairs and into the cold, dark antechamber. Not a single torch was lit this time.

“Countess?” Anna called out to the darkness.

Elsa wove a small fire spell that cast light into the antechamber. The table and chairs where they’ve previously sat lay in a broken heap upon the floor; the interior of the castle was just as much a shambles as the outside.

The hairs on Anna’s neck stood on end. Something - someone was in the room with them, ever so faintly. “Elsa - can you create some very fine, very light snow?”

Her sister smiled and wove a persistent flurry in the air. Sure enough, Anna’s suspicions were well-founded; a ghostly figure moved around them, disturbing the snow. It slowly took form, from a vague man-shaped cloud into that of an old noble. Tall, wearing a heavy robe with giant buttons, a mustache and beard, long hair, and a crown that looked like a band of pearls with a star in the middle, all made of snow.

“ _I smell power. Who are you?_ ” whispered the ghost.

“We are-” Anna began, before Elsa interrupted. “Ötödik szellem. And életszellem,” Elsa gestured at her sister.

The ghostly apparition hissed and drifted back, staring at Anna. “ _I have done nothing wrong, életszellem. Do not punish me._ ”

“Well… how would I know if you’ve done anything wrong, hmm?” asked Anna irreverently. “Who are you, anyway?”

“ _I am the rightful owner of this place, though I can no longer claim it as my own. I am Vlad Tepes, Vovoide of Wallachia and master of this… ruin,_ ” the ghost uttered, sounding as crestfallen as a whisper could. “ _What business do you have here?_ ”

“We’re looking for the Countess Dolingen,” said Elsa.

The ghost laughed. “ _Életszellem, do you not realize the folly of your question?_ ” At Anna’s confused look, the ghost of Tepes sighed as much as it could. “ _Countess Dolingen was a thrall to your power, életszellem. When you reclaimed it, she was freed from its curse, and she died only a year after you took the power from her._ ”

Anna’s shoulders slumped. “Well, so much for that idea,” she said to her sister dejectedly.

“ _What business did you have with the Countess?_ ” probed Tepes.

Anna opened the satchel and brought out the Deathlord’s remaining possessions. Tepes’ ghost looked at each of them, recoiling slightly at the dagger, but looking with great interest at the glass bottles. If ghosts could, he would have been salivating. “ _I knew I smelled great power here. Ah, to be alive again and to drink of such magic. Tell me, életszellem, do you know what is in these jars?_ ”

“No. That was entirely the point of coming here,” Elsa snapped.

The ghost regarded the fifth spirit coolly before resuming. “ _This is the blood of a demigod. This is magical essence of the greatest power. Where did you get such marvelous magic?_ ”

“Never mind that. Thank you for your help, Vlad Tepes. We’ll be on our way now,” Elsa said, turning to gather up the belongings and usher Anna away from the ruins.

“ _Wait! Életszellem, you have a rare and precious opportunity. If you drink this, your considerable powers would be augmented. You can only resurrect the dead if their souls have not left this world now, yes?_ ” asked the ghost.

Anna nodded wordlessly as Tepes continued. “ _Drink, and you will have the power to resurrect anyone, regardless of the circumstances of their death. Do you have a friend? A loved one? Someone you miss who is gone? You need not be without them. Drink, and you shall have them once more. All I ask is that you restore me as well, in exchange for this valuable information,_ ” the ghost pleaded, watching Anna’s face carefully.

Anna paused in thought. Names and faces from more than 30 years ran through her mind. Kristoff. Kai. Gerda. Iduna. Agnarr. They’d lost so many. What if she could bring them back? What if the blood of a demigod was enough to let her do that and restore the Moors, too? Would she be strong enough to do both?

“Anna, let’s go.” Elsa interrupted her contemplation. Anna startled, then took her sister’s hand.

The ghost of Tepes hissed, his expression changing from eager excitement to outright hatred, as he drew back, eyes filled with blue flames. “ _NO! You will not steal away my only chance to live again, ötödik szellem! She can restore me! She can make me live again!_ ” The ghost reached out to grab Elsa, an ethereal clawed hand reaching for her throat.

Brilliant white, blinding light flashed from Anna’s hands as she reached out to intercept the ghost. “Leave my sister alone!” The light impacted the ghost as though it were a freight train, knocking its ephemeral form against the wall and burning it away. The snow that outlined his form drifted to the ground.

Anna drew Elsa into a tight embrace. “Are you all right? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

Elsa smiled. “No, he didn’t even get close, thanks to you. Is he-”

“Gone. I can’t feel his energy anymore. I guess my magic is especially strong against death energy like ghosts?”

Elsa looked around at the few snowflakes still in the air. “It would seem so. I’m glad you’re continuing our fine tradition of you saving me,” she smirked with a giggle. “Let’s head back to the Moors.”

* * *

Borra sat in contemplation on the withered grasses near the crater where his queen died. The chill winds blew through the gnarled husks of the trees, stirring up an occasional leaf. He longed to see his land thrive again; the one tree that stood out was the one that the Anna girl had magically restored. His hair stood on end suddenly; he turned to see a magical portal appear, and the two sisters fell from it.

“You would think after thirty years we would be a little more graceful coming out of those,” Elsa remarked, brushing herself off after stumbling on the ground.

“Hello, Borra!” Anna said cheerily. “We think we may have a solution. Somehow, the Deathlord ended up with bottles of Maleficent’s blood, which, by the way, eww!” Anna wrinkled her nose. “Anyway, this might be the missing part.”

Borra nodded eagerly, his eyes wide with hope.

Anna opened the satchel and took out the three bottles carefully, then laid them on the ground. Borra squinted, looking at the ancient, rune-covered glass with the viscous black liquid inside. “What manner of language is that?” he asked aloud, wondering.

“No doubt something magical and evil, which is why this eluded the spirits,” said Elsa. She gestured to Borra to open the bottles, and he picked one up. Despite their ordinary appearance, he could make no progress removing the crystal top from the bottle with his considerable strength, as though it were fused together.

Elsa watched, then motioned for him to step back. Borra placed the bottles on the ground, and Elsa froze them solid. The clear crystal turned blue as ice overtook it. Elsa waved her hand and the ice shattered into snow flurries, drifting away. The blood fell to the ground in a small pool for a moment before sinking into the soil.

All three waited with bated breath to see what would happen. After a long moment, Anna and Elsa looked at each other. Just as Anna opened her mouth to speak, the ground rumbled. Black ashes drifted to the spot where the blood sank in, and the soil began to glow with a reddish-golden light. Winds blew faster, drawing ashes from all over the Moors; black ash flaked off every plant and tree.

Anna and Elsa stepped back, while Borra grinned broadly. He could feel what was coming. “My Queen!” he shouted gleefully, his arms raised high above his head, as though he were trying to hug the cloud itself.

The ashes whirled into a giant vortex, and the light inside grew into flames. From inside the vortex, something giant and dark grew, coalescing from the flames. A shriek emerged from the fire as a giant horned head rose, followed by the rest of the body of an enormous black bird, its wings covered in flames.

The bird, a fire phoenix, reared up on its legs before shrinking in size to something person-shaped. Borra dropped to his knee in reverence.

“Borra! My goodness, I missed you.” Maleficent, in black regalia with clawed wings behind her, smiled upon her servant. “How long have I been gone?” she asked, surveying the withered lands. “Too long, it would seem.”

Elsa spoke up. “It has been thirty-four years since you battled the Deathlord, Phoenix.”

“Now there’s a name I haven’t heard in quite some time. Who might you be?” asked Maleficent, regarding Elsa carefully.

“My name is Elsa, and this is my sister, Anna. We were sent by the spirits to heal this land and restore you.”

“Ah yes. Took them long enough, I suppose. Still, give Bruni my regards. He and I have had many a chat over the millennia about the nature of fire. I offer you my thanks, and the thanks of my kingdom, such as it is,” gestured Maleficent. She knelt down and plunged both hands into the soil, bright golden energy flowing through her. As the waves of light passed from her, the grasses sprang back to life, and the trees unfurled. Small insects rose from the soil and the sickly waters in the brooks ran clear.

“You there, Anna. Lend a hand, will you?” Maleficent asked, holding out her hand. Anna took it gingerly and immediately began to glow a golden light. “Ah… you have the life spirit within you. Good. Close your eyes and feel, child.”

Anna gasped. All the energy she’d stored from the crystal, from the Countess, and from the thousands of souls taken from the Deathlord swirled inside her like a maelstrom. Her eyes turned golden bright as Maleficent’s energy and hers merged, and a wave of intense light erupted from them, restoring the entire valley all at once.

“Well done, child. You are stronger than you appear. Your magic is new to you?” asked the demigod.

“New-ish. I’ve had it for a little over thirty years now and I’ve got the hang of the basics, I think?” said Anna sheepishly.

Maleficent laughed heartily. “Thirty years is barely the blink of an eye, dear. I have been here since giant reptiles roamed this land. Your power is strong, but you need focus, skill. As a token of my thanks and the thanks of my people, I bid you take this.” Maleficent conjured a large, ornately decorated, leather-bound time. “This is a grimoire of healing magic. Learn these well and you will have much finer control of your powers than you do now.”

Anna took the massive tome gingerly. “Thank you! It was our pleasure to help.”

Maleficent turned to Borra. “How many of us survived the war?”

“Not nearly enough, my Queen. And many more perished from the blight that covered the land, but some of the forest fae still live on the outskirts,” he replied.

“Then let us find them and set about the task of restoring our people.” Maleficent inclined her head towards the sisters as she unfurled her wings. “You have our thanks, Elsa and Anna. Should you find yourselves in need, come to the Moors and ask. We will help.” Warm wind tousled the sisters’ hair as the fae took flight.

Anna tucked the giant tome under her arm and took Elsa’s hand. “Shall we?”

Elsa giggled. “I thought you wanted to stop at the cake shop back in town first?”

“Oh my god, how could I have forgotten?” Anna squealed. “Elsa, what would I do without you?”

A smile beamed on Elsa’s face. “You’ll always have me. Let’s go get some cake.”

* * *

“I said to have faith in her, and my faith was well-placed, was it not?” asked the Guardian to the spirits. “She did not hesitate to do what was right, and the temptation posed by Tepes never entered her mind. The bridge between magic and humanity is once again repaired.”

Jotun’s voice rumbled. “You were correct, _Formynder_. Our apologies. The fifth spirit and the life spirit chose wisely. But our concerns were not unwarranted, given what happened with Dajjal.”

“If Elsa had perished, then yes. Anna might have been much more strongly tempted to seek the power of resurrection by any means. But as long as they remain together, they balance each other, and will not abuse the power we have lent them,” the guardian’s voice echoed off the ice walls.

“We should still be vigilant,” squeaked Nokk’s voice.

“For now. Over the centuries to come, they will continue to validate our trust in them. Perhaps one day, they will even join us when we call them homeward bound.” Had the Guardian a face in its natural form, it would have smiled kindly, thinking of the sisters. The balance was once again restored.

* * *

## Author’s Notes

This one-shot was to tie up the intentional loose end from Storm of Spirits with Maleficent’s death. Initially in that story, I had planned for the Deathlord to drink Maleficent’s blood, but it just felt awkward and weird in the story, so I cut that out and decided to return to it here.

This is the third and probably final one-shot in the Storm of Spirits universe for the time being; while there are certainly more stories to be told, there’s a full AU I want to start playing with soon.

* * *

### Join The Party

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